


A New Normal

by Segskog (Missesbean)



Series: The Great and Terrible Trade [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missesbean/pseuds/Segskog
Summary: Tysons in Toronto.  He really is.  What now?
Relationships: Past Tyson Barrie / Nathan MacKinnon, Tyson Barrie/Morgan Rielly
Series: The Great and Terrible Trade [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593970
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	A New Normal

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to my three lovely betas (you know who you are!) I don't know what I would have done without you pals' help!
> 
> Thank you, Syd, for putting up with my backpack needs!
> 
> Disclaimer: If you have found this by searching yourself, family member, friend, etc, turn back now. This is all a work of fiction.

The trade hurt. Leaving Denver hurt. Even Tyson’s heart hurt. He still remembered what it was like standing in the middle of the sidewalk on Canada Day when the news came through and his phone rang with a call from Joe Sakic. He remembered Biz asking to post the video, and he’d numbly said sure because his world had just collapsed beneath him. What else was he supposed to say?  _ No? Please don’t post my heartbreak for the world to see? Please cut out the part where I cry on Veebz? _ Nonetheless, the video was out, and nobody saw that his sister pulled him close and hidden, while he tucked his face into her neck and cried while his pocket vibrated with Joe Sakic’s name on his screen. He’d been told that he was appreciated, for all of his time, for his leadership presence, for the attitude he brought to the team. The words had all blended together because his only thought was that he was leaving home. Leaving Nate.

He was devastated. 

*** 

Tyson’s departure for Toronto had been painful, to say the least. He’d reached out on his way from Denver to his previous teammates, said goodbye to his favorite trainers, massage therapists, gym staff, media crew in every way he knew possible. It had hurt. He’d experienced his last Tyson Tuesday and was overwhelmed by how much he felt his fans’ pain alongside his own. He’d tried multiple times to draft his departure note to the fans and to Denver, and each time he was reminded of how much he was leaving behind. How much was being  _ taken _ from him. 

In all honesty, saying goodbye to Denver was a thousand times easier than saying goodbye to Nate. His Dogg. His best friend. His partner. His heart. He’d practiced how he would say goodbye relentlessly. There was a constant loop in his mind that he saw while he was packing, while he was laying in bed with Nate, while he was at dinner with the Landeskogs, while he was visiting with Jared, while he was eating with EJ. Over and over, he saw him telling Nate goodbye, and each time he saw himself losing his composure and crying. He didn’t cry. Didn’t want to cry. But he knew he would. 

When he finally told Nate goodbye, he had tried to smile, he had hugged Tyson tightly, and he had cried into Tyson’s neck. He’d begged for one more night. One more sleepover and Tyson had relented because it was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted to tuck up against Nate in his big bed, while Nate wore his pretentious pants - Tyson, his realistic flannel - and Tyson curled up as close as he could, taking in every essence of being near Nate. Even the grumpy version and the way he kept the tv on late and Tyson couldn’t stay asleep, he wanted all of it. He wanted to remember why he loved Nate so much and why it was going to be so hard. So he said yes. He stayed. 

Leaving in the morning had been the hardest thing Tyson had ever done. Nate had tried again to put on his brave face, and Tyson had promised they’d still have get togethers, and talk and text, and everything would be okay. That they could still be friends. He’d given Nate one tight hug and a soft embrace before he walked out the door, jaw held tight to keep himself from weeping. 

*** 

That had all been six weeks ago. Now, he was curled up in his bed, eyes puffy, cheeks tearstained, Ralph near, and the tv on some stupid trash tv show he and Nate used to watch. His bed felt huge, empty almost, and he felt cold. The house was warm and he was dressed in layers so there was no reason why he should have felt as cold as he did. But here he was. Carrying not only his sadness but Nate’s as well. 

Kerf had tried to get Tyson out of his funk with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and crappy karaoke, but Tyson couldn’t really get into it with Kerfy. He was trying to adjust too. Now, he was going by  _ Alex, _ and Tyson knew he wasn’t home anymore. Alexander was in Colorado, and Alex was here. In Toronto. Not to mention, Tyson and Babcock were  _ not _ mixing well, and Tyson was absolutely beginning to hate the game of hockey. 

It used to be that if he was having a bad day, all he had to do was go to the rink for practice and skate hard, and things would fall back into place. But now the rink made it worse: he got yelled at for the most ridiculous of things, he was not the “defensive asset” that Babs wanted, and he was losing his way. Losing his way through the game of hockey and through life. 

Tyson had always been a social person--always interested in going out--but with every invite from Mo, Matts, Freddie even, and Alexander, or Alex, or what the hell ever Kerfoot was going by these days, Tyson said he was busy. He had plans. He needed to call home. But really, what he was doing was calling Nate or FaceTiming Nate, and hearing how he was falling apart. He was trying to put Nate back together again from 2,427 kilometers away, and it wasn’t working. 

Like tonight, Tyson had gotten Nate out of his head, only to have his own soul in his head and nobody to talk him out of his weird thoughts. He was on the sofa with Ralph eating Cheetos, fingers orange, robe covered in crusties, a light dusting of whiskers on his chin, and hair a mess, when there was a knock at his door. Naz’s door. The door, the damn door. He grumbled, holding his bag of Cheetos, and got up, going to throw it open, only to see Kerf on the other side. He grunted a hello and stalked back into the living room, leaving Kerf standing with his mouth open, eyes wide at the sight in front of him. 

While Tyson got resituated on the sofa, Kerfy had come into the living room, surveying the area. Tyson, having no shits to give, looked up at Alexander, or Alex, or what the hell ever. 

“Sup, Kerfy?” Tyson asked as he propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Cheeto?” 

He watched Kerf shake his head at the outstretched bag, “Suit yourself.” 

“Tyson,” Kerfy said with a worried look. 

“Yeah?” Tyson asked, glancing Alexander’s direction. 

“Dude, you look. . . “ Kerfy sought for words. 

“Spit it out, Harvard,” Tyson said with a sigh, not in the mood. 

“I’ve never seen you like this, man. You... have this like, vibrant skin, like... you glow, but lately, it’s like your bulb is burned out. I’m worried, Tyson,” Kerfoot said with a soft sigh. 

Tyson looked over at Kerf and rolled his eyes, shrugging as he rubbed Ralph’s head, phone ringing with a FaceTime from Nate. 

“Don’t answer it, Tys,” Kerf said slowly. 

Tyson raised his eyebrows, “What?” 

“Just, don’t. Every road trip so far, you duck out of meals and go calm down Nate. I get it man, he’s your best friend, but you need time for you, too,” Kerf said with a sigh. 

“You don’t get it, Kerfy. It’s the Dogg. He’s sensitive. He has needs,” Tyson said with a shrug, ignoring the FaceTime, but sending a text with a call you soon. 

“You have needs, Tyson,” Kerf said finally. 

“I’m fine, Kerf. Really. I’m just struggling with the game,” Tyson perked up, aiming for an expression of ‘best foot forward.’

“Keep telling yourself that, Tyson, and it’s going to get worse,” Kerf sighed. 

Tyson glanced over at Kerfy, trying to not collapse then and there. Kerf was the most familiar thing here, and honestly? Tyson wasn’t as familiar with Kerfy as he could have been, but it was something. He was someone, but Tyson wasn’t sure if it was good or not. He knew Kerf was a solid guy, but here he was, going by  _ Alex _ and everything was still so different. 

“I’m fine, Alexander,” Tyson said with an air of finality. 

“Okay... but Tyson, really if you need anything... just to talk, go for a drink, skate, run some drills, whatever, just ask okay?” Kerf watched Tyson. 

“Got it, Harvard. You’ll take care of my needs,” he gestured with his hand. 

“Yeah well, I’ll let you get back to your... tv and Cheetos…” Kerf gave a glance in the direction of Tyson, or the shell that used to be Tyson, and got up, heading out the door. 

“Hey, Tyson?” Kerf called, waiting for the grunt that was Tyson’s response. 

“Shave and take a fucking shower,” Kerf said with a laugh and a shake of his head. 

Tyson rolled his eyes and turned the volume back up on  _ Desperate Housewives. _ Kids these days interrupting his tv time. 

Before he was even out of the door, Mo and Gabe were both aware of the emergency that was known as Tyson.

***

Tyson’s funk continued to get worse. He was trying to fit in with a new team, he was trying to work on a new pairing, he was trying to figure out just what the  _ hell _ Babock was trying to do, and he was trying to keep Nate in one piece. There was no time for him to keep himself mentally healthy. But he did shave and shower, and that was a step in the right direction. 

In a few weeks, the team would be heading to Denver, and Tyson would have his first game back in the Can against his old squad, and in a place where he had grown into his game. If he wasn’t traded before then, that was. Every day, Tyson was afraid of what was going to happen. Was Dubas going to get tired of his shit and get rid of him quickly? Was Babs going to scratch him? Tyson’s mind was reeling as he put on his clothes after practice. He had his head down, lost in thought when he saw the shadow of a body drop beside him. 

Glancing up, Tyson was greeted by a warm, familiar grin from Morgan. He nodded his head in a hello, “Mo.” 

“Tyson,” the other mirrored back. 

“Sup?” Tyson asked, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Ohhh, not much, really. I’m just, kind of down, needing some dog snuggles. I was going to see if I could swing by later, get in some Ralph rubs?” Morgan asked with a glance in Tyson’s direction. 

Tyson bit his lip, bending back down to tie his other shoe. What was a good enough reason to say no?

“Uhm,” Tyson paused. “I mean, Ralph hasn’t been feeling the best lately. I don’t want you to catch anything.” 

Morgan snorted, clapping a hand on Tyson’s shoulder, “I’ll be there at six with dinner and dessert. I can’t get a dog’s fake sniffles, Tyson.” 

Tyson glanced up and was starting to respond, but Morgan was already out the door, his lack of presence felt as the warmth that seemed to follow him stayed tucked in Tyson’s belly. 

The afternoon flew by, with Tyson napping with Ralph, talking to Nate for a little bit, before taking another nap. In fact, he was dozing on the sofa when Ralph barked at the knock, startling Tyson. He quickly glanced around, determined the apartment was clean enough, and got up, Ralph following along as he went to the door. 

Fortunately, Tyson was at least in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt today, and not just his bathrobe, so this was really an improvement. With the door open, Ralph stood beside Tyson, peering out at Morgan, who stood holding what appeared to be a chocolate ice cream cake. Wordlessly, Tyson slid to the side so the other man could come in with the dessert and Chinese take out. 

Tyson watched with a sigh as Morgan pushed his way in, talking sweet and cuddly to Ralph while he made his way into the kitchen, putting the bags down on the counter before he moved to the freezer to stash the cake. 

Slowly, Tyson shut the door and followed Mo into the kitchen. The sight in front of him did bring a small smile to his face; Morgan was sitting on the floor, Ralph running around him and jumping over his thighs in excitement as he tried to give kisses. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asked quietly. 

“Playing with the dog, Tyson, what else would I be doing?” Mo snorted and stood up, stretching before he moved to the counter and started pulling out Chinese containers. 

Tyson’s phone began to ring, and Tyson went to grab it, seeing it was Nate. He was about to answer, when Morgan reached out and took his phone, eliciting a growl from Tyson. 

“What the hell? Gimme that back, Rielly,” Tyson grunted, grabbing for his phone. 

“No phones,” Mo took his own phone out of his pocket, along with Tyson’s, and put them both on silent, before placing them into the pantry, then shut the door. 

“Give me the damn phone, Morgan,” Tyson said with an air of annoyance. 

“No, Tyson. We need to talk about the fact that you’re chained to your phone and Nate’s calls,” Morgan stated matter of factly. 

Tyson huffed, shaking his head, and instead went for plates. He wasn’t going to address this conversation. So he would eat. Whatever would keep Mo from having this conversation with him; he didn’t want to talk about Nate, he didn’t want to talk about Colorado, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get into the Nate conversation. 

Tyson felt those blue eyes on him as he moved towards the bar and opened the containers, plunking spoons and forks into them as he moved and inspected each item. He settled on some rice, lo mein and beef with broccoli before he sat down at a stool at the counter and started to eat. He didn’t miss the feeling of Mo’s eyes on him while he did so as well. 

He wasn’t going to talk to Morgan unless he absolutely had too. Which, he was going to absolutely have too. He could feel Morgan’s eyes on him and it was starting to drive Tyson nuts. He could also hear his phone vibrating in the cabinet, and he was aware of who it was, and hated that he wasn’t available. 

“Morgan... stop,” Tyson glanced in his direction, watching as the other man sat down on the stool next to him with his own plate. 

“I’m not doing anything Tyson, just making sure you’re doing okay,” Mo retorted. 

“Right. You didn’t take my phone away and you didn’t come in here with a cob up your ass, not at all,” Tyson snorted. 

“Well well well, someone’s being a grumpy ass today,” Mo snorted. 

“No, but I’m tired of being given that look from you. It’s getting old,” Tyson gestured towards Morgan’s face. His brows were knit close together, lips held while he chewed on the bottom one, worry etched across his face. 

“I’m not allowed to look at you?” Mo asked with a roll of his eyes. 

Tyson shrugged and kept his head down, eating his food, choosing to just ignore the comments at this time. He didn’t speak again, nor did Mo, until Tyson’s phone started to vibrate again. 

“Can I see who it is?” Tyson asked softly. 

“I’m sure it’s Nathan, so no,” Mo said with a shake of his head. 

“He needs to talk, Mo. It’s hard, you know? Getting separated,” Tyson said with a shrug, getting up to go for his phone. 

Morgan put a hand out on Tyson’s gently, “No, Tys. Gabe called…” 

Tyson’s brow rose high, meeting his hairline almost, as he glanced at Morgan, “What?” 

“Well,” Mo started, clearing his throat. “Gabe got a call from Alex, and he’s worried about you. Said you were hanging out in your robe with cheeto dust on you…” 

Tyson felt anger boiling under his skin as he looked down, fork picked back up to have something to hold onto instead of reacting. 

“I don’t think that it’s anybody’s business but my own, how I respond to this trade,” Tyson stated matter of factly. 

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Tys. It’s not just you that’s being affected. It’s Alex, it’s Nate, it’s Gabe, it’s everybody in Colorado, everybody here, Ralph…” Morgan trailed off. 

“It’s Alexander!” Tyson erupted, slamming his hand down. “Fuck! It’s not Alex, he likes Alexander! Or Kerfy! Or Profesor even! But not ALEX! And don’t even  _ tell _ me, how Nate or Gabe or my teammates are doing! Has anybody fucking asked how  _ I _ am doing?! No! Newsflash! I’m not fucking okay!” Tyson’s voice elevated, shaking as he tried to gain his composure. 

“I live in this stupid apartment, downtown! The stupid metro is right there! I don’t even get to drive places! I left my life back in Denver, I didn’t get to pick even where I went! I wasn’t supposed to leave! Joe  _ said _ I was supposed to be there! I made it through the draft, and he said I was going to stay! My agent was working on a deal! I was going to take less, to stay! And then, I find out, via an  _ NHL alert _ , that I was traded! And it gets broadcasted to the whole fucking world! I have to say goodbye to my  _ home! _ ” Tyson was getting more frustrated as he ran his hands through his hair, tugging gently at his curls. “I left my routine, my normal, and here I am. In Naz’s stupid apartment, while he’s in my  _ home,”  _ Tyson choked out the words and got up, stomping to the cabinet where his phone was vibrating again. 

Morgan didn’t get up and try to stop him, just watched Tyson storm around the kitchen. Tyson’s breath was huffed out, stomps as he aggressively fumbled with his phone, trying to get the damn thing turned off before he slammed it into the drawer again. He moved towards the cabinet over the fridge, took out the tequila bottle and unscrewed the lid, taking a drink from the bottle, ignoring the burn. He wasn’t stopped, but he felt eyes on him, and they didn’t feel angry or judgemental, they felt like eyes of pity. Tyson sighed and took another pull before he slid the bottle over to Morgan. “Better catch up.” 

“It’s all good, I don’t need any,” Morgan said quietly, watching Tyson deconstruct in front of him. 

“Suit yourself!” Tyson cried out, before he took one final swig and screwed the lid back on before he shoved it back into the cabinet. 

He started to wash up things, plucking spoons, knives, and bowls from previous meals off the counter and into the sink. 

“Tys, careful,” Mo cautioned. 

“I’m fine!” Tyson stated, but cut himself with the knife, grunting as blood spilled out over his hand. 

Morgan was up and to the bathroom for bandaids and some antibiotic ointment, while Tyson was ranting and raving at the sink, banging as many dishes as he could together. He apparently was in need of some form of relief, and Morgan was letting him have it. 

Tyson’s hand was bleeding, the dishwater tinged red when Morgan stepped back beside him. 

“Tyson,” Morgan gestured to his hand. 

“I’m fine,” Tyson stated again. 

“Just let me at least put a bandaid on,” Morgan stated quietly. 

Tyson relented, offered out his wet and bleeding hand, and sighed, leaning back against the counter. 

Morgan carefully picked up Tyson’s hand and wiped it dry with the dishtowel before he put the disinfectant on the cut and got out a bandaid. Tyson was breathing heavily, working hard to not cry, the tequila affecting him more than he wanted to admit, in combination with the stress of the night. 

“Let it out, Tyson,” Mo stated softly, doctoring his hand. 

“Nothin’ to let out, m’fine,” Tyson stated stubbornly. 

“Okay,” Mo nodded and wrapped the bandage gently. “Want some dessert?” 

Tyson shook his head, sniffling now, lashes thick with a few tears. Everybody in Denver knew not to let him at the tequila, he would get weepy, but nobody knew that here. Except for Alexander. 

“No dessert for SweetToothTyson?” Mo asked with a laugh. 

“What kind?” He asked quietly. 

“Ice cream cake… chocolate chip cookie dough,” Mo added with a smile. 

“Dairy Queen?” Tyson asked softly. 

“Of course,” Morgan nodded and leaned back against the counter beside Tyson. 

“Maybe just one slice,” Tyson stated quietly, rubbing his hand over his face gently. 

“Okay, want some whipped cream, too?” Morgan asked moving to the freezer. 

Tyson nodded, sliding down on the cabinets to the floor where he sat, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. It was silent except for the clattering of utensils while Morgan cut the cake, then he took his own seat on the floor beside Tyson, offering out a fork. 

Tys took the fork with a sigh and started in taking bites. He sniffed softly around bites, slowly wilting closer to Morgan, shoulders touching until Tyson was slumped all the way against Morgan, head on his shoulder. 

“It’s going to get better, Tyson,” Morgan offered slowly. 

“How do you know?” Tyson asked with a snort of a laugh. 

“I’ve seen it, Tyson, you’re not the only one who’s had to do this, ya know?” Morgan fumbled in the bowl for another bite. 

Tyson stabbed at the slice in the bowl, forking a mouthful as he grunted, his bodyweight against Morgan fully, his tears falling unfiltered now. 

“It really hurts,” Tyson finally relented. 

“I can’t imagine, Tyson, and I’m really sorry,” Morgan said quietly, glancing down at Tyson. 

Tyson sniffled and dropped his fork, curling up against Mo, sniffles filling the space. 

“You have to quit trying to take care of him, Tyson. You don’t have to take all of the calls and the messages. He’s a big kid. He’s got Gabe, Erik, and the rest of the team. It’s too much. Now, let us do the same for you, okay?” Morgan asked quietly. 

Tyson nodded, “Okay.” 

He couldn’t take feeling like this anymore. 

***

When Tyson had said “okay” to Morgan, he thought he had just said he wouldn’t take calls as often. That was what this meant in his mind. But they were on a roadie, Babs was on Tyson’s ass, and Tyson felt like he was never going to score a goal again in his life. He was pretty sure he was going to get traded within the next few weeks at this rate, and he’d stupidly admitted to a reporter that it was really hard being traded. Babs had given him shit for that, too. 

Tyson had seen Sidney while they’d been in Pittsburgh, and he’d given him a look of pity and almost disgust. What used to have been amicable, now made Tyson feel like he was a bad guy in this. But he was just trying to figure out his life. Why couldn’t these people understand this? Nonetheless, Tyson got through the game, got yelled at by Babs some more and responded to one of the many texts from Nate. 

After the game, with his head tucked low into his jacket, Tyson made his way to the bus, pushing his way as far towards the back as he could. He dropped into a seat and put his bag on the empty aisle seat, leaning against the window. He was hopeful that everybody would just leave him alone. 

It wasn’t that easy though. As soon as Morgan was on the bus he made a beeline for Tyson, who was keeping his head down, trying to pretend to not have noticed. Instead, Tyson tried to busy himself with a text to Nate, reassuring him that they were going to be okay, and then they could get dinner when he was in Denver. Maybe if he looked busy, Mo would just leave him alone. Tyson wasn’t that lucky, though. Tyson felt Mo’s presence first, he felt the heavy drop of the other man as he moved Tyson’s bag and slid into the seat beside him. 

“You alright, man?” Mo asked quietly. 

“I’m fine,” Tyson said quietly. 

“I don’t think you are, Tyson…” Mo spoke softly, glancing over Tyson’s shoulder at his text to Nate. 

“You gotta let MacKinnon go, man,” Mo sighed softly. 

“That’s not the problem,” Tyson sighed softly. 

“Well, then what is?” Morgan asked with a glance to Tyson. 

“Sid was weird, the game was obviously awful, Babs hates me, I feel like I should just start packing up again,” Tyson ran his hands over his face and through his hair, tugging gently. 

“Don’t put all of that on yourself Tys... and Sidney is always weird, you should know that by now,” he chuckled. 

“Yea but, we were friendly you know, and now I feel like he just wanted to behead me…”Tyson sighed. “It’s stupid, and I know it, but I’m just really overwhelmed right now, ya know?” 

Mo and Tyson mirrored each other with shocked faces at the fact that Tyson had actually admitted that out loud. 

“Yea, well, let’s work on that, Tys, okay? When we get to the rooms lets go grab some ice cream and just watch some trashy tv or something, sound good?” Mo asked with a nod. 

“Yea, that would be good, I think,” Tyson said with a nod. 

“Okay, well, we can do that,” Morgan gave him a smile and elbowed him gently before he put in earbuds for the rest of the ride. 

When they got to their rooms, Tyson FaceTimed Nate, settling up against the pillows with a soft sigh as he listened to Nate talk about how things were going, how the team was, Gabe, the baby on the way. He was listening to Nate talk and whine about how much he missed Tyson, and how much it hurt, when there was a soft knock at his door. 

He took his phone and walked quietly, Nate not even noticing, so tied up in being sad, letting Mo in with ice cream and snacks. 

Tyson walked back to the bed, sighing softly as Nate continued on. 

“Nate, I have to go, Rielly just showed up and they need me downstairs, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, kay? Later Dogg.” 

Morgan gave Tyson a shake of his head and a sigh, “We have to get that to stop, Tyson. You look sad.” 

“I  _ am _ sad, Morgan,” Tyson said softly, flopping back on the pillow. 

“I know you are, but it will be easier when you can separate a little bit. Aren’t you the one who told me that you said to Nate you guys couldn’t do long distance?” Mo asked as he offered out a spoon. 

“Well, yea, because it’s hard,” Tyson said. 

“So why do you keep doing this? You’re making yourself miserable. I’m not saying you don’t talk to him or anything, I’m just saying that you distance yourself until you’re established here. Look at Kerfoot, he struggled for a while, but he’s doing really well now, Tyson. He got through it, and he hangs out with us, he has fun, and he’s not so miserable like you are...” 

Tyson rubbed his face, “Yea, and he’s also playing well and Babs doesn’t hate him. Nate’s not calling him upset because nobody understands him.” 

“Exactly Tyson! Nate isn’t calling him upset every fucking day multiple times a day. You gotta stop this. It’s not fair to you. You’re making yourself miserable, and you’re just hurting yourself and Nate more, man. You have to separate man, it’s only getting worse, and that interview didn’t help. Now everybody knows you’re miserable, Tyson…”

“I know, but it’s the truth, I’m  _ so _ miserable,” Tyson said softly, taking a bite of the offered ice cream. 

“Then change it, Tyson, just change it. Whatever I need to do to help you, let me help you. Or if it’s not me, let  _ someone _ help you. We want you here, and we want you happy, Tys,” Mo offered softly. 

“I don’t think anybody here can help me, Morgan,” Tyson uttered, voice barely a whisper. 

“What helps when it’s like this, Tyson?” Morgan asked, turning towards him. “I will do anything. Literally,  _ anything _ to help you right now.” 

“It’s stupid . . .” Tyson said softly. 

“Try me,” Mo said. 

Tyson’s face flushed with embarrassment as he tried to get the words out, “I don’t know, man.” 

“Seriously, Tys. If it’ll make you feel any better, Freddie and Kerfy are probably curled up in robes watching DuckTales right now, because that’s what he needed,” Mo shrugged. 

“Big Spoon…” Tyson uttered. 

“Okay, I can be your Big Spoon, what else? Head rubs? Butt rubs? What?” Morgan was already moving ice cream away and kicking off his shoes. 

Tyson looked at him incredulously, he was seriously just going to go with this? He’d never met anybody quite like Morgan. Which he knew that growing up Morgan was special, but now? He really was special. 

“Just… HGTV and cuddles,” Tyson said with a shy smile, cheeks flushing. 

“Yes! I hope Property Brothers is on!” Mo said with a grin before he pushed the covers down. “Do you care if I turn the lights down?” 

Tyson shook his head and curled down on the pillow, turning the tv to HGTV,  _ Love it or List it _ playing. He felt awkward at first as Morgan curled up behind him wrapping an arm around him. He nodded when Mo asked if it was okay, moving his hand to pull Morgan’s tighter around him. He wanted to be close and tight. His phone dinged with a text, and Morgan reached for it and put it behind them, tucking his chin onto Tyson’s shoulder. 

“You okay, Tys?” He asked softly. 

“Yea…” Tyson offered quietly, curling back into the solid fridge of a man behind him. He felt safe, secure, and for the first time, he felt okay. It was going to be okay. 

*** 

The road trip continued, it continued to suck, and then Babs was gone. Tyson got his first goal of the season, and things were okay. Things were okay and then they landed in Denver. Tyson felt his stomach clench with anxiety. He locked eyes with Kerfy, who looked excited but nervous. The roommates were coming to get him for dinner, and he was pumped. 

He’d never really met Nazem Kadri, but that was on his list of to-do’s tonight. He and Morgan were going to swing by with a bunch of the other guys, and they were going to have a little albeit brief, house party for the swappers. It had been weird to Tyson, taking an Uber to his own home. The home five minutes from Nate’s house. The home that made him so happy and full of life once, the home that now made him feel nostalgic and pained. 

As the car pulled up in front of his house, Tyson took a deep breath and got out with Morgan, the others already there. He got to the front door and went right in, not bothering to knock. It was his home, but he realized, that probably was rude. He saw Gabe and immediately went for the Swede, giving him the biggest hug he knew he had in him, congratulating him on Linnea, condolences for the foot injury, and excitement at seeing one of his best friends again. He made his rounds, giving the guys there a few extra hugs, before he slid beside Gabe, looking up at the blonde. 

“Where’s Nate?” Tyson asked softly. 

“At home, moping,” Gabe said quietly. “You should just... see him in public, Tyson. He’s not being fair to you.” 

“I will... Mo said the same thing,” Tyson offered. 

“Did he?” Gabe asked with a risen brow. 

“Yea... told me that I was only hurting myself, and that Nate needed to heal on his own, just like I do,” Tyson said with a breathy sigh. 

“He’s right, Tyson,” Gabe said quietly before he rubbed Tyson’s shoulder. “I know it’s gotta be really hard, Tyson. But you deserve to be happy again. I’ve been keeping tabs on you, you’ve got a lotta people worried, Brutes.” 

Tyson nodded, looking down. “Can I swing by and meet the little lady?” 

“Of course! I was going to just tell you to come home with me and meet Linnea, Mel would love to see you, too,” Gabe grinned. 

Tyson nodded, gesturing to Mo that he was heading out with Gabe. 

Morgan gave him a nod and waved at Gabe with a slight smile. 

Tyson told his teammates, old and new, goodbye, before heading out with Gabe, sighing as they went. It was so weird to be leaving his, or rather Naz’s, house and not be in charge of the journey. 

*** 

After meeting Linnea (who Tyson immediately fell in love with), giving Mel all of the hugs and kisses and some chocolate, Tyson had felt that he’d overstayed his welcome at the Landeskogs’s. He’d texted EJ, who’d dropped by, as well as Colin whom he was planning to have brunch with tomorrow. There was no reason why he wasn’t going to make the most of this trip. Tomorrow was going to be hard, Tyson knew that, but he was ready. Hopefully, Emily and the media team wouldn’t make him cry too much. Or let him sing on the stupid jumbotron again. 

With his visits done for the evening, he had one last person to see. Nate. 

He had agreed to share a meal with him and even sent him the chipotle address where he’d be. When he saw Nate, he felt his stomach flutter and his heart accelerate. It was excitement and terror, all in one. 

The whole time they were together, it was like nothing had ever changed. Tyson and Nate had just fallen into their old routine, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing about stupid shit that happened earlier in their lives, and talking about hockey around the league. It was when Nate asked if Tyson wanted to come home with him, that Tyson started getting upset internally. He’d started to use Mo as the blame as to why he couldn’t. And then Tavares, and then their new coach, any and everything to keep himself from being the reason why he couldn’t go home with Nate tonight. 

Nate’s face had shown he was crushed as Tyson glanced at him, and again, Tyson apologized profusely for how much he was probably disappointing Nate, but he couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t fall back into this routine tonight. He just, couldn’t. So, he stood and said goodbye to Nate, now onto blaming a text from Morgan needing something as a reason why he had to go. He’d watched Nate’s face fall from the realization that this was the new normal and he had to leave. He knew he was quite a few blocks from the hotel, but he wasn’t going to wait for an Uber. He was just going to walk, or even run at this point. He gave Nate a last hug goodbye for the night, before he slid out of the restaurant, tears rolling down his cheeks as he did so. He tugged his coat tighter and started walking quicker. 

By the time he got back to his room, his cheeks were flushed red and tearstained, and his heart was hammering in his chest a million miles a minute. He’d texted Morgan that he needed to talk and that he was headed back to his room. 

He made it to the elevator and into the hallway to his room when he saw Morgan, leaning against the doorframe of Tyson’s room, just waiting. Tyson threw himself at Morgan when he saw him and tucked his face into the broad man’s chest, hiding himself from the world. 

Wordlessly, Tyson’s key was wiggled out of his pocket and they were beeped them in. Tyson followed Mo as he ushered him towards the bed. Wordlessly, Tyson shed out of his coat and shoes before he dropped down on the bed by Morgan, curling into him. Tyson was silent as he inhaled the scent he associated with Morgan, spicy tuberose with a hint of leather, spice, and soap. He’d grown to find comfort in that scent. 

Tyson relaxed into the rubbing of a wide hand across his back, tucking his face closer to Mo as he felt his breathing start to even out. He hadn’t realized it was going to be this hard coming back, but here it was. He stayed curled into Mo for hours, wordlessly clinging to the other man. Morgan was moving to get up, but Tyson put a hand on him, looking up with wide, intent brown eyes.

“Stay, please?” Tyson asked softly. 

“Anything,” Mo nodded, curling back down. “I’m going to turn the lights off though, okay? You need to sleep, Tys, it’s late.” 

Tyson watched as Morgan got up and turned off the lights before curling back up beside him, pulling him close. Tys pulled the covers over them and tucked his face back into Morgan, a soft yawn falling from his lips as he lulled himself into sleep. Tomorrow was a big day. 

*** 

Tyson stood in the tunnel, the rock of the Can the same as ever, but this time, it was a different tunnel, a different bench. A different team. He was  _ home _ but he was just visiting. His mind was reeling with all of the emotions that he was processing as he took the ice with his new team. As he went through warmups, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelmingness. Nate was here, he kept looking towards him, and Tyson felt like he was maybe being an idiot, but he stayed closer to Matts for a while, and Kerf, just trying to get his feet wet, so to speak. 

  
  


As he stood on the ice he looked around and saw signs for himself, from his fans, from people thanking him. He was actually missed, and he felt for once, like it was going to be okay. He wasn’t hated, he wasn’t blamed or forgotten. He mattered. He’d made it through the game, he’d made it through the trip, and he scored. It was some closure, that he didn’t know he needed. Even if he felt Nate’s eyes on him. It was okay. 

***

While Tyson felt a sense of peace with having been back to Denver, it seemed Nate had experienced the opposite reaction. He was sending sad face texts and more frequently their banter would say that Nate missed him, but it seemed that Nate was doing okay. He was looking forward to the trip to Toronto and already asking for dinner plans. Believing that this was going to work out and be okay, Tyson said of course and arranged to have dinner for Nate. 

But when he conveyed his message to Mo, the response hadn’t been quite what Tyson expected. Morgan was insistent that he and Gabe be present to chaperone to make sure Nate was under control. Tyson didn’t quite get it, but when he said that Gabe was worried that Nate was sliding back down into the funk, Tyson agreed. He was going to have to get more serious about this distance thing. He really couldn’t get back to that funk he’d been in October and November. He was producing, playing well, being on a pair with Mo was working and Tyson was starting to enjoy hockey again. He couldn’t let Nate’s mood kill it. So he agreed. Plus, Tyson truly enjoyed having Morgan around and cuddling with him. It was reassuring, comforting, safe. He craved that feeling of safety that he got from Morgan. He’d never felt that way before, and it was something he was starting to treasure. 

  
  


*** 

The Avs coming to town happened quickly and Tyson was overwhelmed. Nate was so excited and Tyson was so worried. He was worried that he was going to lose his progress, worried he was going to fall apart, worried that Nate was going to fall apart... 

So when Gabe mentioned he was coming early, Tyson was actually good with this. Now, as he made dinner for them all, he was listening to Gabe talk about Linnea, and how happy he and Mel were, and how Tyson needed to let himself find happiness, and let Burky take care of Nate. 

Tyson had honestly been a little shocked by that statement, but he was relieved, honestly. There was something in Denver to take care of Nate and now, he wasn’t the one fully responsible. Because that was how he felt. Responsible. Tyson was about to comment on that, when there was the buzzer and he knew Nate was there. He also was expecting Nate to be either pissed or ignore the fact that Mo and Gabe were there as well. 

Which, it went well, and Tyson was having fun. He was pleased to get to be with Nate again, and in an environment where he could keep himself controlled. It was like old times, Nate, Tyson and the boys. Only this time, it was a different pair of boys. 

It was only when he was hugging them goodbye, that Tyson realized Nate wasn’t doing as well with this as he had thought. Nate fell apart on him, and Tyson had to give Gabe the look to get him to get Mo out for just a few minutes, so Tyson could get Nate back together. 

After Nate’s pleading, he agreed to one more night. Just them. Whatever that meant, and he realized he had to get serious about cutting this off. After reassuring Nate, Tyson got him and Gabe out the door, and collapsed into Morgan’s side with a heavy sigh. 

Tyson leaned into the embrace that Mo offered, hiding his face in the other man’s chest for just a moment before he spoke. “I have to go over there tonight,” he said quietly. 

“Tyson,” Morgan started, but was stopped by Tyson’s hand on his lips. 

“Shh… just, I have to do this. For his closure. Nate needs finality and I have to give him that. Okay?” 

Morgan sighed, “Tyson, I don’t think this is a good idea… you’re only going to make this worse for yourself.” 

“Maybe so, but I have to do something Mo... he started crying on me,” Tyson heaved. 

He felt Morgan wrap his arms tighter around Tyson, rubbing small circles on his back as he sighed again, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I understand.” 

Tyson nodded, allowing himself a deep breath. It hurt to see Nate that way, more than Tyson had expected. 

“Morgan?” Tyson asked softly. 

“Tyson?” 

“Will you kiss me?” he asked with sheepish eyes. 

“What?” Mo asked with a risen brow. 

“I just... I want to know,” Tyson said quietly. 

“Know what?” Morgan questioned. 

“If I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life,” Tyson said. 

Brown eyes flickered over Morgan as he tried to put it all together. Tyson watched as Morgan leaned in, strong hands holding Tyson’s body close as he rubbed his thumb over Tyson’s cheekbone. He could feel his heart all but beating out of his chest as Mo got closer, pink lips closer until he was there. Tyson’s hands slid up Morgan’s side as he tilted his head, kissing Mo back with curiosity. He felt, safe, comfortable.  _ Home. _

As he pulled back, Tyson looked up at Morgan with a small smile. 

“What?” Morgan asked quietly. 

“Definitely not the biggest mistake of my life,” Tyson retorted. 

“No?” Mo questioned. 

“No, this,” he gestured towards Morgan, “You. You’re where I’m supposed to be. If you’ll have me.” 

Morgan smiled and nodded, “Yea... I’ll have you. Always.” 

Tyson blushed softly, but let himself be tugged closer. 

*** 

The feeling of being with Morgan was what got Tyson through the night. He got Nate situated in bed, told him it was the last time, and settled down. Nate was needy, Tyson had always known that, but he hadn’t realized just how much a toll it was taking on him. Long-distance wasn’t doable with the Dogg. There was no questioning it, Nate would forever be Tyson’s best friend, but he couldn’t be his romantic partner from afar. 

As he lay in the hotel bed with Nate, those scratchy cashmere pants rubbing his ankle, Tyson felt like he had a movie playing in his head of all the good times he’d had with Nate. It was time for a new chapter. Tyson was in Toronto, and it was time he moved forward. He’d always have Denver and Nate, but now he had Toronto and Morgan. That’s where he was, that was where he needed to be. 

He stole a last glance at Nate before he slid out of Nate’s room, only to run into Gabe in the hallway. 

“Tys?” Gabe looked at him unsure. 

“Oh, hey Landy, I uh…” Tyson started. 

“Tyson,” Gabe sighed. 

“I know...” Tyson said softly. 

“You’re just hurting him as much as you’re hurting yourself, you know,” Gabe spoke with a shake of his head, leading Tyson down the hall. 

“I know, and I’m going to really hurt him tonight, and I’m really sorry. You guys are going to have to put up with it, and I know it won’t be easy,” Tyson spoke softly. 

“What do you mean?” Gabe asked. 

“I’m not going to see him again, Gabe. Sure, during the game, but that’s it. I’ll make myself scarce,” Tyson said softly. 

“I’m sorry Tys, but you’re doing the right thing,” Gabe said with a nod. 

“I know. Goodbye, Landy,” Tyson spoke softly, reaching out to hug Gabe quickly before he made his way to the elevator. 

He glanced back towards Nate’s room and felt his chest tighten just a little bit. He was doing the right thing, even if it hurt. 

*** 

Tyson hadn’t realized just how much his ghosting Nate was going to cause pain. Now, he found himself receiving Text Messages, Snapchats, Calls, FaceTimes, and Whatsapps. For weeks. And every time, he was able to ignore it, busy himself with something else. He had to, for Nate. 

The final straw though came when Tyson was making out with Morgan on the sofa, exploring the planes of his chest, and he received Instagram messages from Nate, wanting to make sure he was okay. It felt like a shot to the gut, every time he hit ignore. But he couldn’t keep doing it. He was caught up in his head, and Morgan had even called him on it multiple times. Today was no different. As he pushed himself to sit up on Morgan’s hips, straddling him with a sigh, he opened the message and shook his head. Nate had lost his damned mind. 

Morgan held onto Tyson’s thighs, keeping him balanced. “Babe. . . you just, you have to cut him off, block him, something. Every time you get a notification from him, your brows furrow and you huff and get grumpy. Then, you mope, and honestly, it’s not fair to you, it’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to the rest of us. I get it, he misses you. But dammit, Tys, you’ve been plenty kind to him and given him closure. He has to stop harassing you.” 

Tyson frowned, looking down at Morgan with a protruding lower lip. “It’s the Dogg. . . “ 

“I  _ know _ , Tyson. But you have to figure out where your heart is, okay? I’m not going to play this game with the two of you . . .and I never thought I’d say this, but. Him or me, Tyson. I can’t sit and watch you do this every day,  _ multiple times, _ a day,” Morgan sighed, shaking his head. 

Tyson felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach as he looked down at Mo. “Okay.” 

“What?” Morgan asked quietly. 

“Okay, I’ll take care of it,” Tyson said quietly. 

He wordlessly extracted himself from Morgan and went to his room, shutting the door. 

Tyson picked up his phone, took a deep breath, and hit call on Nate’s contact. 

“Brutes!” He answered, “Dude, you break your phone?! Go dormant? Like, what the hell man, it’s been weeks!” 

“Nate,” Tyson started, voice thick, low, serious. 

“Are you okay, man? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you, and like-” Nate was cut off though. 

“Nate, listen to me, and listen completely, okay?” Tyson asked softly. It was breaking his heart with jsut how much Nate was struggling to put all of this together. Nate was his  _ Dogg _ . 

“What? Tyson, you sound weird,” Nate laughed quietly. 

“Nathan, Please. Do not speak, just listen to me, okay? I need to tell you something.” Tyson was authoritative, he had to have this conversation, even if he didn’t want to throw it all out like this. He had to get it done. He wasn’t going to put himself last. 

“Okay, Tys...” Nate was hesitant, it was never a good sign when Tyson used his full name. 

“You can’t call me anymore, Nate. No more FaceTime, no more two am voicemails when you’re upset or sad, okay? This is over. You’re my friend, Nate, but we can’t do this. I...” Tyson paused, waiting for Nate to follow. “I have someone else now, Nate. I don’t want you to call me anymore, okay? It hurts too much and it’s too hard. I know this is going to hurt-- trust me, I get it, I do, okay? In the words of my Queen and Savior, Celine, the heart will go on. I’m sorry, Nate, I have to go. See you around.” Tyson bit his lip, unbelieving that he was doing this. But he had. 

He didn’t wait to hear what Nathan had to say, instead he hit the end call and promptly put his phone down. He didn’t want to be near it, didn’t want to hear the calls or messages. So he did what he knew best. Set his voicemail app to take all of his calls straight to voicemail and turned his notifications from Nate’s texts to silenced. 

He promptly curled up on his bed, and let himself wallow. Morgan gave him a little bit before he knocked on the door and came in to find Tyson curled in the fetal position, hugging his pillow. 

Tyson felt the bed dip and Morgan slide beside him before he was gently tugged towards Morgan. He allowed himself to be pulled that way, and nuzzled up to the other body, gravitating towards the warmth and security. 

“It hurts,” Tyson spoke quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” Mo said softly. 

“Me too,” Tyson looked up at Morgan, eyes full of pain and despair. 

Morgan nodded and held him closer, tucking the covers over them both. He’d snuggle Tyson to happiness if that’s what it took. 

*** 

Tyson started to feel a little bit guilty the longer he went without talking to Nate. Plus, he was really enjoying all of his late-night talks and cuddling with Morgan. He enjoyed their extracurriculars, too. He was doing better, moving on, able to find himself a sense of peace, and he just knew that Nate wasn’t doing that well. He didn’t have to be told, he’d seen the Blackhawks game stats and he knew that was his fault. He also knew that Gabe would make sure Nate was okay, but Tyson still was feeling guilty. 

The Leafs were on the road when Tyson started to feel worse. He’d gotten a text from Nate that had all but killed him, even though he’d told him no more. That’s what let Tyson to the hotel bar, where he was with his friend, Patron. 

He was smart enough to text Mo and let him know to come to join him for a drink. Which, Tyson had already had a shot and some beer, so really Mo needed to come save him, he just didn’t know that yet. 

Tyson was leaning against the hotel bar, watching the Avs game on the TV when Morgan strolled in. Tyson glanced in his general direction, but then flickered his eyes back to the tv. He didn’t see, but felt Morgan sit down beside him. 

“Tyson...” the voice was soft, compassionate. 

“Wanna drink? I’m buying,” he gestured to the bartender. 

Morgan ordered some water for them both and asked to close the tab before he nudged at Tyson. 

Tys grunted, looking up at Morgan with sad brown eyes, lips pursed, “But, Morgan!” 

“Come on, Tyson, let’s go upstairs,” Mo said with an air of finality as he took the water bottles and nudged Tyson again. 

“Fiiiiine, killjoy,” Tyson said with a sigh but followed him to the elevator. 

They were silent until they got to the room. Tyson went straight for the tv and turned on the hockey channel, watching the Avs. Morgan was getting water and pillows and aspirin it seemed before he came over to Tyson and took the remote. 

“No more,” he said quietly, taking the time to turn and click off the tv. 

Tyson grunted, “I was watching that.” 

“Why? What for, Tyson? They traded you. They sent you here. You’re here now, and you have to accept it. We, no you, were doing so well, and then you just fell apart. What happened?” Morgan softened his tone as he stood by Tyson on the bed. Tyson’s face was full of pain. 

“I know, but,” Tyson ran his hand through his hair. “It’s home.” 

Morgan sighed softly, crouching down in front of Tyson, reaching up to take his hands, eyes intent on Tyson, whose face was down, emotions heavily etched on his features. 

“Tys, I know I haven’t been down this road, but I’ve heard from a lot of guys who have, and you can’t keep doing this. You have to let yourself move on, babe,” he reached a hand up and rubbed Tyson’s chin gently. 

Tyson shook his head, leaning into the touch, “I don’t think I can. So much of me is there.” 

“I know, and it’s not going to be easy, but you have to allow yourself to have this Tyson. You don’t have to feel guilty for moving on. For going forward. This is a new chapter for you, Tys.” 

Tyson ran a hand over his face and tugged at his hair a little, shaking his head, “Why are you so good to me?” 

“Well, one, because you’re my dude. BC Boys for life. Second of all, I want you to be happy and I know you need me putting my foot up your ass. Finally, I  _ really _ like you and enjoy being around you. I honestly want nothing but the best for you… and I’m not afraid to tell you, you have to block Nate. He’s just going to keep relying on you, and you’re going to keep letting him. I’m not going to sit here and watch you pine for him, when I’m doing the same for you, Barrie.” 

Tyson was listening quietly, head down, hands clammy in Mo’s while he listened to his words. 

“What?” shock registered across Tyson’s face. 

“Tyson... I’m absolutely into you, but I can’t tell if you even like me half the time, you’re too caught up in Nate and Colorado...” Morgan said with a shrug of his shoulders. “But you have to understand something. I won’t let you hurt me. So you need to pick: me or Nate... I can’t keep picking your pieces up and then go put myself back together.”

Tyson slid down off the bed then, pulling his arms up and around Morgan’s neck as he hugged himself to the other man wordlessly. He held tight as if Morgan was the only thing that was keeping him there, keeping him grounded. 

“I’m so scared,” Tyson finally whispered to Morgan. 

“I gotchu, Tyson,” Morgan reassured him, hugging him back. 

Tyson nodded and rubbed his nose against Morgan’s, foreheads resting together. “I want this, Morgan. . .” 

“Okay, I trust you.” 

*** 

Tyson spent a lot of time with Morgan, more than he realized. It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve, that Goat asked Tyson if he was coming out, and Matts retorted “Of course he’s not him and Mo are going to go eat ice cream” that Tyson realized just  _ how _ much time he was spending with Morgan. Nobody was complaining, and nobody was worried about it, but they were aware. 

He didn’t realize he’d been holding in some worry about people noticing, until that moment. But when they all just nodded and chuckled, Tyson felt his cheeks flush and a feeling of happiness soak over him. He  _ was _ happy. Morgan made him feel like the day was going to be okay, that he was going to make it, and that Toronto was going to work out. For now. 

So while the rest of the guys went out for drinks and partying, Tyson and Morgan went back to Tyson’s apartment and snuggled up with Ralphie. 

They were situated on the sofa, Tyson nuzzled up against Morgan, when Tyson spoke softly. 

“I just, I really want to say thank you. I don’t know how I could ever show enough appreciation for all of you and your help and keeping me sane. The past few months were really rough, and you took amazing care of me, Morgan,” Tyson looked up with soft brown eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, Tyson. You’re a special human and I will always help you out,” he grinned at Tyson, rubbing his nose gently with a boop. 

“Weirdo,” Tyson said with a faux huff. 

His phone was buzzing with notifications and of course, Tyson checked. He saw some selfies and decided to take his own. He nuzzled into Morgan and took the picture before posting it. With a smile, he clicked on Nate’s and sent him a message. They could do friends. 

“Careful Tys, I’ll fight MacKinnon for you,” Mo whispered with a smirk.

Tyson chuckled and nuzzled back before he leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his throat. 

“No you wouldn’t, wouldn’t have too,” Tyson laughed. 

“New Years Eve. . . we’re in for the night, and it’s only 10:30. We’re so old,” Morgan laughed.

“Meh, I like it this way. I’m where I belong,” Tyson winked and looped his arms around Morgan’s chest. He was right where he was supposed to be. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this piece! I'm toying with a final piece of Alexander adjusting to Toronto, let me know if you're interested! So please stay tuned! All feedback welcomed and appreciated!


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